It was here. The night every late teen hates. Prom Night. Anybody from the ages 17 and onwards have experienced it, but this was your year. You were in school, putting stuff in your locker, when you're tapped on the back by an all too familiar voice

Selever: "Yo. Wanna go to prom with me? Yknow, just kinda... Fuck around?" He asks, looking at you with a seemingly nonchalant expression, but hoping you'd say yes internally, though he wouldnt admit it